


An interrupted morning

by thewightknight



Series: The Commander and the Inquisitor [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Morning Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-08
Updated: 2015-01-08
Packaged: 2018-03-06 15:15:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3139034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewightknight/pseuds/thewightknight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She had asked him to stay, and he hadn’t meant to spend the whole night, but he’d fallen asleep as well, and now, come morning, he had a little bit of a problem.  Well, it wasn’t actually little ….</p>
            </blockquote>





	An interrupted morning

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't abandoned these two, don't worry. I just got distracted by some other characters. This is a direct continuation of part 2 of the series.
> 
>  _ **Editing notes:**_ I just realized that somehow I'd managed to tag this as Trevelyan instead of Lavellan! Oops! If you're coming back to this after having read it before and thinking you've lost your mind, it's not you, it's me. My apologies.

Cullen woke when the sunlight hit him straight in the face. He was confused at first, because his tower had very few windows and the loft where he slept remained dim throughout the day but then his brain caught up with the rest of him and he remembered where he was. He also realized that he had curled protectively around Eilrys in her sleep. They had turned in the night, and were spooning, with her head resting on his arm and their legs entangled under the covers. 

Her face was turned slightly towards him and a piece of hair was lying across her face, blowing out softly with each breath. It made his nose tickle to watch, but he couldn’t do anything about it, not with one arm trapped beneath her and the other tucked against her chest with her arms wrapped around it. In fact, he realized, he was quite effectively pinned. They were so wound together he couldn’t move at all without waking her. 

His body took that moment to notice that he was pressed up against an incredibly lovely woman for whom he had been pining for months and reacted with enthusiasm. Fade take it, this was so not the time. There was no indication that this was anything other than comfort given and she would wake up soon and be shocked, he was sure. He started trying to distract himself, first by reciting from the Chant and when that didn’t work, reminiscing about plunges made into icy lakes, some of the more embarrassing moments of his adolescence, and the smell of some of his least favorite foods. 

Nothing seemed to be helping, and, casting about for anything that might, well, soften his morning mood, he remembered a trick one of the younger Templars, one who had taken a vow of chastity had mentioned during his circle days. Modifying it slightly for the current time, he started chanting in his head. “Divine Justinia naked. Divine Justinia naked. Divine Justinia naked. Divine Justinia naked.” He didn’t actually picture her naked, of course. That would be blasphemous. But the repetition took his mind off of the things he wasn’t going to think about thinking of and it seemed to be working and he started to relax.

Naturally, that’s when Eilrys woke. She yawned and stretched with her whole body, pressing herself even more firmly into him and undoing all his efforts. His mutinous body part stiffened again, twitching between them, and she froze for an instant, then relaxed back into him.

“You stayed,” she said, smiling sleepily. 

“I’m sorry,” he babbled, trying to shift away. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep, but I didn’t want to wake you and I guess I dozed off.” He kept trying to scoot back except she still had his arm trapped between hers and he was pulling her along with him, and he realized she was laughing. 

“You’re going to pull us both off the bed if you keep that up.” He stopped, and she snuggled up against him again, turning towards him in the process. He was absolutely positive that she was wriggling against him more than simply turning in place warranted and he bit back a groan.

“It’s a good morning, I see.” She stretched again, and this time he couldn’t keep the groan from escaping.

“Maker's breath, stop doing that or I’ll…” he broke off, having absolutely no idea how to finish that sentence.

“Or you’ll what?” she challenged, and the sleepy smile had turned into an impish grin. 

Well, then. He rolled over, not quite lying on top of her, bracing his arm on the mattress. Moving slowly, to give her time to get away if she wasn’t actually serious, he leaned in. Apparently, she was serious and he was taking too long, because she hooked a leg over his and pulled him down into a kiss. He responded willingly, gasping and shivering as her hands found their way up under his shirt and traced paths up and down his spine. After a few minutes, he rolled over, pulling her on top of him, and returned the favor, nuzzling into her neck as he brushed the sides of her breasts with his thumbs and she kept rolling her hips and rubbing against him and she managed to work his shirt up and … and were those footsteps on the stairs? 

Leliana and Josephine burst into the room, Leliana calling out “Inquisitor, one of my ravens just arrived with an urgent ….” She trailed off. Josephine gasped, and then giggled nervously. “I beg your pardon, Inquisitor. I had no idea … We’ll go now. If you could join us in the War Room when you’re … We’re going now. We’re so sorry.” Their footsteps receded, and just as the door closed again he heard another faint giggle.

Eilrys had half-risen at their entrance, and flopped back down onto his chest with a whuff of air in a movement that would have been comical at any other time. “Remind me why I haven’t gone screaming off into the hills yet?” she grumped into his torso.

“Because you are a paragon of grace and duty,” he responded, and she snorted. He continued reluctantly. “We should go see what is so urgent.”

“They can wait a few minutes, can’t they?” she asked, still sounding adorably grumpy.

“They could, but I do not want to take only a few minutes with you,” he replied, and she huffed again, then levered herself up on her elbows and kissed him again briefly, once, twice. 

“I’m going to hold you to that,” she mock threatened.

…

Leliana’s report was truly urgent, and Eilrys was off again within hours, racing to beat the Venatori to another ruined elven temple, and he was snappish and out of sorts for the next few days. Cullen knew his men would attribute it to the lyrium cravings, and was ashamed to be glad of the excuse. He avoided the other two advisors as much as possible, as they both wouldn’t stop smiling and sighing at him. The days passed, and life at Skyhold progressed. 

There was no official word when the Inquisitor would return, so it was a shock to him one afternoon when in a shift in the movement of his soldiers during a briefing he caught sight of her, leaning against the wall of his office. He lost his train of thought for a moment, a brief hesitation that none of his men and women seemed to notice, but managed to pull himself back together, finishing the briefing and dismissing everyone. He closed the door behind the last of them, then leaned into it with a sigh. “It’s always something, isn’t it?”

“Wishing we were somewhere else?” she asked, and he couldn’t help but laugh.

“I barely found time to get away before. But this war won’t last forever. When it started, I hadn’t considered much beyond our survival. Things are different now.”

She crossed the room towards him, asking “What do you mean?”

The words started pouring out of him. “I find myself wondering what will happen after, when this is over. How I’ll want to move on. Not from you. But I don’t know what you … That is if you … Um …” he trailed off. Smooth as ever, he berated himself internally, but then she was in front of him, her hand cupping his cheek, smiling.

“Cullen, do you need to ask?”

“I suppose not.” Her breath caressed his lips. “I would…” he began, and she silenced him with a kiss, pulling him across the room with her, leaning back onto his desk, drawing him in, and they both started as a bottle fell, shattering on the stone floor. She drew back slightly, looking embarrassed, and he would not let anything break this mood, not again. Surprising himself and her, he swept the desk clean, papers flying, more glass breaking and she laughed and drew him down on top of her and oh was it sweet. 

After an eternity of moments, she gasped. “Doors!”

“Doors?” he repeated, confused.

“We need to bolt them. If we’re interrupted again, I will murder someone.”

“Oh. Doors. Yes.” He practically ran across the room, sliding the bolt to the south parapet door shut, turned and found that she’d done the same for the other. They met again in the middle of the room, and somehow he managed to get them both up the ladder and into the loft above, climbing the ladder one handed as they kissed, her hands buried in his hair. His cloak didn’t make it, falling to the floor below as they ascended. His armor dropped to the floor only a few paces from the ladder, and they tumbled onto his bed together. 

He’d told her that morning in her rooms he didn’t want to hurry, and yet they came together frantically, and neither was completely out of their clothes as he entered her, as if even with the doors closed and locked against the rest of the world they both still expected to be interrupted, crying out to each other with the suddenness of it. After they’d recovered, urgency abated, they finished undressing each other leisurely, with slow caresses and deep kisses, and he worked to map every inch of her body with hands and lips. She called out his name, clinging to him, nails digging into his back as they rocked together, and after an unmeasured time they both drifted off to sleep, wrapped in each other’s arms.

…

It was the nightmare again. He knew it was a nightmare, but he couldn’t wake. He was back in the courtyard outside the Gallows in Kirkwall again, and Meredith had her sword to his throat, except then it shifted and the bodies around him were Josephine and Cassandra and Leliana and it was Eilrys in front of him and Corypheus stood behind her with his hands on her shoulders and her eyes blazed red and he felt the skin of his throat start to part when Corypheus said “Wait. We can use this one,” and he finally woke with a gasp.

Eilrys was nearly dressed, sitting on the side of the bed, looking at him with concern. She comforted him, and he calmed, and her declaration of love nearly drove all the shadows away.

**Author's Note:**

> It seems to be a common thread through many of the romances, people walking in on the poor Inquisitor when he/she is in the middle of getting his/her thing on. Seriously, people. Lock the doors!
> 
> Feel free to come say hi over on [tumblr](http://thewightknight.tumblr.com/).


End file.
